


Winter Shenanigans

by fridgehorror



Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: Cigars, Dadsbury theory, Gen, M/M, Smoking, Snowball Fights, Snowmen, most characters are mentioned - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-11
Updated: 2019-12-11
Packaged: 2021-02-25 05:27:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21750784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fridgehorror/pseuds/fridgehorror
Summary: A snow day is every day in Winter, but that doesn't mean you can't make the best of it.
Relationships: Wolfgang/Maxwell
Comments: 2
Kudos: 26





	Winter Shenanigans

Maxwell inhales sharply, watching the plume of cigar smoke billow through the air. Idly, he leans back against the evergreen tree behind himself. A break was nice once in a while, especially since he received a small set of cigars during Winter's Feast. It'd been so long since he had a proper smoke, and it was almost relieving in a way. It felt like a good way to unwind. Almost like home. Juggling the cigar between two fingers, he sighs, closing his eyes. Winter was ebbing to a close, things were becoming warmer. It was enjoyable, really. A quiet hum from him as he takes another sharp inhale, pulling it away only to exhale. With his free hand, he rubs at one of his eyes, tiredly. He was notably further from the main camp as it stood, but close enough to see and watch all that went on without the chance of second hand smoke. Despite what others might tell you, he didn't see smoking as healthy. He hums discontentedly, before taking another drag. 

The children were playing in the snow, the littlest of the trio was new to the camp. A young merm with horns. He didn't know merms could even grow horns. Even Maxwell didn't know everything about this place, even its original inhabitants. The three were making snowmen, although Webber seemed determined to make a snow-spiderman. Twigs hung misconstrued as legs, and several broken chunks of old flint tools were being reused as eyes. Even Wendy was having fun, which was so rare for the poor girl. He couldn't help but grin, maybe witnessing a little improvement in her psyche. 

Where the children weren't, were the rest of the adults. The camp was cooped in by a large barrier of evergreens to keep the wind out. They would come down come spring, or when the need for firewood became an issue. That would be his & the lumberjacks chore. More of an activity for the other. Huddled about the central firepit was Higgsbury & the mime, Wes lazily lounging against Wilson. The two were keeping an eye on the children, who were running amuck outside of the actual camp setup. Several tents, more than a few crockpots & iceboxes. There were farms, but they were a short way aways to keep them from combusting in summer. 

He takes another drag of his cigar. 

Wigfrid was busying herself with revealing her "spoils of war" to Warly, he took them thankfully, and went off to prepare dinner with them. Food had been much better since he had found his way to this corner of the Constant. The cook was even quite the conversationalist, though it made Maxwell realize he really needed to brush up on his French & even learn Creole. Knowing the basics only got you so far, and Warly, Woodie and Wes all knew the language. Three variations of three different cultures. Canada, France & Haiti. Linguistics always boggled his mind, but fascinated him the same. 

Letting out a tired exhale, his train of thought was interrupted by the giggling of children, and maybe a few adults alike erupted across the camp. A mini snowball fight, stirring up more than just the children. Maxwell cocks an eyebrow, not willing to snuff his cigar just to get involved. Wolfgang had made his way back a little later than Wigfrid, and was currently aiding Wurt in making snowballs. Her flippered hands didn't seem adapt to making, but the kid certainly could throw. Wolfgang made, Wurt chucked. The little Merm might of even been using him as a cover. A side glance to Wilson & his partner showed that the scientist had gotten up, abandoning his previous spot. He approached the scuffle, warily, but seeming to want to get in on the fun. Webber was more than keen to grab their father's hand, tug him towards the rest of the children and tuck a snowball in his hand. 

It was almost immediate that a snowball connected with the scientists head. 

An indignant yell as he stumbles to his rear, which leads right into a giggling, laughing mess. Higgsbury was reeling on the ground, laughing. The little arachnid beside him was snickering as well, tugging at their father's sleeve, trying to get him to his feet. 

A scuffle of snow approached Maxwell. 

His niece stood before him, fluffy earmuffs hanging crooked on her head, snow littering her blonde hair. Maxwell cocks his head, coughing as he didn't exhale the last drag he took. He waves the bit of smoke away, and smiles awkwardly down at the waiting girl.

"Yes, Gwendolyn?"

"Will you join us in the fight?" She asks, Abigail floating over her shoulder. 

Maxwell sputters, well aware he wasn't a good aim nor could he throw very far. "Er. Are you certain you do not want to ask for Miss Wigfrid's aid? Maybe Miss Willow's?"

"Wigfrid is busy. Willow is sick. Wes is not interested, I can tell. You are the most viable option I have. It would be... Fun?"

The magician rubs the back of his neck, sighing with a nod. "I will. Give me a moment, yes?"

"Yes."

Wendy wanders away, her sister in tow. Sighing, Maxwell snuffs his cigar against the snow, before hiding it away in his suit jacket. Might finish it off later if that didn't ruin it. Silently, he follows Wendy to where she was. The other two children were a slight ways away still. Wendy looks up, but then looks away to scoop up a handful of snow. She pats it into a spherical shape, before squinting, taking aim and nailing Wurt in the side. 

"YOU."

Wendy was snickering, and watching as the tiny warrior scrambled to try and make a snowball herself. Maxwell bent down, grabbing up a handful grinning. With one hand, he held the snowball and the other he gently grabbed his nieces shoulder, coaxing her away from the tiny green demons wrath. 

It didn't take long for a few snowballs to be thrown their way.

Thump. 

Thump. 

Two broke up on the ground, one flew over Wendy’s head.

Wendy and Maxwell both snicker.

Maxwell finishes up the snowball, cupping it in his gloved claws. He cocks an eyebrow, watching Wurt excitedly realize she had more targets to aim at. Meanwhile, Wilson seemed to be stockpiling snowballs, Webber throwing a few as they made their own. They weren't a very good aim. The magician grinned a little. He bounced the snowball in his hand for a moment, before promptly chucking a snowball at the scientist’s head. 

A very snowy, amused face turned to look at him. 

“Maxwell! Good to see you joined the fun!”

Maxwell shrugs his shoulders, grinning with a hum in response. He’d be snarky, typically, but this was fun. And especially making a certain someone happy, he wasn't going to spoil it. Wendy was scooping snow up into her hands, cupping it into a ball before setting her sights on Webber now. The spiderchild had their own sights on Wurt, although she was guarded by a wall of well, Wolfgang. He was still her snowball maker, the tiny Merm’s projectiles eagerly finding their way at people's feet or torsos. 

Or in Maxwell's case. His legs. A bit... Too tall. He crouches down again, the snow shifting off his slacks as he bent over, and scooped up another snowball. Wendy was busy charging Wilson, giggling as the man fled in 'mortal terror.' The children liked when they scared the adults. Especially Wendy. 

A thud informed him Higgsbury had tripped, faceplanted in the snow and was being pelted by snowballs by Wendy & Webber alike. Maxwell drops the snow to the ground, making his way over to examine the damage. He had already rolled over on his back at this point.

"Okay! Okay! Enough! You've killed me!" He dramatically drapes an arm over his head. "I'm dead!" 

Webber and Wendy were giggling.

"Children, what have I told you about murdering Mr. Higgsbury? It's not very fair to gang up on him like that." Maxwell shook his head, grinning as he offered Wilson an arm up.

He took it graciously.

Pulling him to his feet, the two children stepped back a second as he shook the snow from his clothing. Little footsteps approached, Wurt squinting at the four of them. 

"No play anymore?" She asks, looking confused. "Why not playing?"

"Oh! We're going to, I tripped. Mr. Carter was just making sir I was okay, and I didn't get a big boo-boo, yeah?" Wilson grins, before gently pulling the winter hat over the child's fins. "Don't want you getting cold on us, kiddo."

"Is cold! But fun!" She beams, staring up at Wolfgang who had made his way over at last. "You were very helpful! Thank you!" There's a pause from Wurt, but then the little girl grabbed Wolfgang's hands. "Thank you!"

Wolfgang grins back. "You are welcome! Just ask for little assistance next time, will help again." 

Maxwell stood silently, looking down at Wendy. She looked up at him, making eye contact a moment before looking away. 

Maxwell clears his throat. "I am going to warm up by the fire if anyone would like to join me." He looks down at Wendy once again, and she perks up a little. Nothing noticeable unless you knew her. Until she gently grabbed her uncle's sleeve. 

"Yes. I would." 

"Mmh. Alright. Come along then." He offers his hand, letting the girl take it, guiding her back to the main center of the camp. 

Wes still sat near the fire, although Wickerbottom had joined him. The older woman was sitting silently, writing in one of her books, feather pencil working endlessly. Wendy took a seat beside her, the two chattering short greetings before returning to their respective silences. Maxwell sighs, sitting by himself, knees popping as he sat down. He leans over himself, rubbing the back of his neck. There was a pang of guilt for not letting the children play longer, but Maxwell brushed it off. They had been playing all day, they didn't need to get sick like Willow. Hypothermia was also something that could occur.

A warm hand rubbed Maxwell's shoulder, and he looks up. Wolfgang grins down at the magician, sitting down alongside him, and pulling the man close. Maxwell sighs contently, leaning on him, closing his eyes. He could hear Wurt chattering with Webber, and the louder, heavier footsteps of Wilson. Maxwell peers an eye open, watching as Higgsbury set Wurt down from in his arms. Webber as at his side, what to sit alongside Wendy. The small spiderchild almost immediately darted to sit beside their best friend. Poor Wickerbottom was about to have her ear chatted off. He doubted she minded. Such a sweet woman, and so adapt to children. It turned out she had a few of her own. Maxwell hums quietly, feeling Wolfgang rub circles into his shoulder. He shuts his eyes again. 

-

Sunset had come, everyone had cozied up for the night, settling down for the hours to come. Warly had made superb dinners as usual, a few specialized, with Wurt's own little side dish of Ratatouille just for her and Webber's own little lasagna they had specially asked for. Full stomaches, a warm fire, the promise of Spring on its way, it was a nice night. Wendy had resigned to her tent for the night, Webber going with her as they were both tuckered out. Willow finally showed her face, still sneezy and sick, but enjoying the fire & fresh air. Maxwell had to question how Wigfrid stayed well when Willow got sick, she was her primary caretaker after all. Every Winter the woman nearly was debilitatingly sick, and the Valkyrie always paid special attention to help her get well. Maxwell rubs at his eyes, stirring himself out of thought. 

Fire crackled before him. Wickerbottom had set aside her book for the night, the woman maybe nearly nodding off for the first time in so long. Even insomniacs needed to sleep once in a while. Woodie and Wormwood had returned some time ago. The two had gone to chop and replant trees, and check the rabbit traps. Woodie had resigned when Wes did, but Higgsbury still hadn't followed for the night; which seemed off routine for him. 

Maxwell didn't question it. 

WX-78 sat silently at the fire, across from Wickerbottom & Wilson. The bot had come back some time after Wigfrid and Wolfgang, wanting to do a little more hunting on their own. Never the best idea, especially after the time they came home after falling into a pond. That was an amusing day. Today didn't seem to hold the same hijinks as then, but they did come home with another bundle of meat, so no one could complain. They also wanted to be able to say they had done more than the other two, Maxwell was certain.

Wolfgang still sat beside him, the strongman silent and sleepy, too. A long day of hunting with Wigfrid and WX-78 likely left him exhausted. Maxwell's runs his hand over Wolfgang's, smiling softly as he rubs his thumb over his knuckles. He shuffles a little closer, almost feeling him do the same. Maxwell grins a little more. There was a gentle kiss placed on the top of his head, the man's arm finding its way back around his shoulders. There was a content grin from Maxwell, coaxing Wolfgang to lean on him a little. He budges, a yawn escaping the man as he closed his eyes, leaning his head on Maxwell's shoulder. 

The fire crackles before them, warmth radiating onto his face, warming up his cheeks. Wolfgang beside him, warm, comfortably dozing off after a long day. He would get him a blanket if that didn't mean he'd have to move him. Maxwell yawns, fluttering his eyes to keep them open. He'd get them to their tent once night fell, until then, the everything was warm, and still.


End file.
